AN: Oh, wow. It's been a while. Thank you so much for staying with the story. This chapter was really difficult for me to write—I had a hard time making it sound right. Hope you like it! Enjoy!

"It's terrifying," a girl said.

Jack nodded. "Yes, it certainly is. And disturbing and horrible…and unfair. Doesn't it seem unfair? Connie hasn't done anything wrong, and yet she is targeted by this man."

"Well," a boy named Sean said, "She's kind of annoying." He shrugged. "And vain."

The girl shook her head. "She's young. She doesn't know any better."

"And she's a tease," another boy said.

"So she deserves to die?" the girl countered.

"Now, now," Jack put up his hands. "We don't know for certain that Connie dies."

"But—" the girl protested, as her eyes grew wide.

"But I hear you, Danielle," Jack assuaged her. "Connie's flaws, at least to me, seem to be forgivable, and certainly not grounds for this kind of reciprocation. So then what are we to take away from this story?"

"Life is unfair," Danielle shrugged. "And terrible things will happen to people that don't deserve them?"

I was paralyzed. My throat was swollen and my breathing tense. We were discussing Joyce Carol Oates's Where Are You Going?; Where Have You Been?, but it felt like they were all talking about me, like they were all looking at me, and analyzing my actions as if I wasn't real.

I hadn't told anyone about the handprint in the car's side. Charlie had not seemed to notice it, and I didn't want to freak him out when I knew there wasn't much he could do about it. I was a nervous wreck, though. A handprint meant that the incident was most likely intentional…or at the very least, it meant that someone with supernatural strength had pushed against the car for some reason.

Keeping up with the discussion in class was difficult, as I had not slept much the night before. I had been wracking my brain thinking of vampires who held grudges against me. I knew Jacob and his pack had taken care of Laurent and then later, Victoria, and I did not know of any other vampires who would want my father and me dead.

"Well," Jack estimated, "I suppose that's part of it, but I'd also like to consider the ending. Does Connie, as the protagonist, take any kind of journey in the story? Does she transform at all?"

Sean blew a stream of air through his pursed lips. "I guess she surrenders, right? She gives up."

"You could put it that way," Jack said.

"No," Danielle argued. "She sacrifices herself for her family. She could have just stayed inside and waited for her family to get home, but she didn't."

"That's true," Jack said. "There is some kind of hero-arch going on there."

Aaron, in the back of the room, shook his head. "I don't think that's the point, though."

"No?" Jack tilted his head.

"No," Aaron said. "It's about Arnold Friend. It has to be. Connie is too bland and normal. She's the stereotypical vapid, egotistical teenage girl. She's not the point. The point has to be about this creep of a guy."

"How so?" Jack asked.

"Well, he's just completely random. He's a villain with no other purpose. He's just evil," he said.

"Do villains have to have a purpose?" Danielle asked. "I mean, can't some people just be bad people?"

Aaron shrugged. "Even bad people have reasons for doing the things they do."

The reason. That was all I had to figure out. What reason could a vampire have to want me dead? And why kill me on a highway? Why not lure me into a back alley somewhere and…?

"All right," Jack considered. "So let's think about it from Arnold Friend's perspective. What is his goal here?"

"To get her in his car," Danielle said.

"To hurt her," Sean said at the same time.

"Maybe it's bigger than that," Jack supposed.

"Yeah," Aaron agreed. "I think he wanted to prove something—to make an example out of this girl."

Jack light up. "To scare people?"

"To scare girls," Aaron specified. "To show them that they can't behave the way they are. I think he, in his own way, is trying to bring about morality."

"What?" Danielle squinted.

"Well, Aaron does have a point," Jack said. "Arnold does abide by this own set of rules for himself, doesn't he?"

Danielle looked disgusted. "I guess."

"So maybe he just wants to establish hard and fast rules," Jack said, "For everyone."

That night, I sat tirelessly with a book open in my lap. Kelsey and Rachael had gone to bed hours ago, but I could not calm down my heart and breathing enough for sleep. I watched the minutes go by—2:33, 2:34, 2:35—I sat up on my bed.

I nearly screamed when a gust of wind blew by my window. Close to tears, I paced back and forth, lost and frustrated. I was helpless, like Connie, standing merely feet away from danger and unable to do anything to make it go away.

In a rush of desperation, I went to the window and opened it. The night air was cold against my skin as my throat caught with fear. My head rushed with memories of safety—wrapped in the arms of someone, held protected. When my eyes filled with tears, I looked up at the sky, heaving heavy breaths and sending something akin to a prayer up to whoever or whatever ran the universe. The wind picked up again, and I cursed and shut the window quickly.

Backing away, I stared at the glass as moments ticked by. My eyelids were heavy and fought against my racing brain. I hurried into my bed and breathed.

I curled my whole body in on itself to try and assuage my nausea. The whole room was spinning around me as my paranoia took hold of my mind. Every gust of wind, every creak, every footstep, I was sure was someone coming to kill me.

I kept watching the clock—2:46, 2:47, 2:48—by 2:49, my eyes had closed, and my mind was dreaming.

"Bella," Charlie was saying. He looked young; all his grays were gone, and his smile was bright and cheerful. "Don't forget your coat. It's cold out there."

I nodded. We were in the house in Forks, upstairs in the hallway, near the bathroom. Hearing the wood floors creak under my feet, I sprinted downstairs to the coat-rack to grab my old, brown pea-coat.

"Here," Edward said, standing by the door. We smiled at each other. He held a long, black cape in out to me. "Allow me."

I had barely nodded and the cape was tied across my chest. It was cold and silky on my skin as I pet the fabric. Edward chuckled softly, and he pulled the cape's black hood over my hair. I took his hand in mine. "Are we ready?"

He nodded. "We are—if you're certain you want to do this. You don't have to. You could stay here, inside, if you want. We don't have to go out there."

I shook my head. "I want to."

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Silly girl."

"Come on!" I said, pulling him out the front door.

Outside, Edward was shining in the sun more brightly than I'd ever seen before. We stopped on the driveway, and I smiled when I saw Jacob approaching. Edward leaned down to me. "Everything will be fine."

"I know," I said.

Jacob wore black pinstripe pants and a crème button down with a red tie. He smiled tightly when he saw us, and said, "Everyone's ready for you."

Edward said, "Good." He took his free hand and placed it securely on my mouth.

Jacob folded his hands and gave him a nod.

He kept his hand firm when I started to struggle. He pressed harder down when I tried to pull his hand away. I tried to scream, which earned me an exasperated sigh from Jacob. Edward pulled me close to him, holding me against him with one arm and suffocating me with the other. My eyes closed in desperation, and he whispered in my ear. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

My alarm clock screamed, and my eyes shot open. The digital clock now read 8:45. I sighed, my head sinking deeper into my pillow. I had survived the night.

Shaking my head, I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to forget my dream.

"Bella?"

I looked up to see Edward Cullen sitting calmly at my desk with a smirk across his stone cold face.

And I screamed.

AN: Review review review! (I promise the next update will be faster, and, again, thanks for sticking with it!)